


What Do You Want From Me?

by insanelybeautiful



Category: Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6621931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanelybeautiful/pseuds/insanelybeautiful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris De Luna is a high end escort that gets hired to join Norman Reedus for the premiere of his next project but this isn't just another client. And this isn't just another romantic tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Being an escort had it’s benefits as well as its drawbacks. Since working in this industry it’s been nothing but rewarding for Iris. After ending a waste of time relationship with one of the greatest scums of the earth, Iris contacted a friend who had long ago told her about the opportunity. She wasn’t really open to the idea before, afraid of what people would say and not being completely informed of what the job entitled. When she heard the word ‘escort’, prostitution came to mind along with other shameful misogynistic names given to women who chose this path. 

But once Clarice explained to Iris exactly what it meant to be a high end escort in Hollywood, Iris couldn’t decline. Now, five years later she believes it was the best decision she ever made. She regrets any stereotypical and prejudiced thoughts she had toward the industry. Without this job, Iris would have never been able to finish school and help her parents. 

Of course, not everything was dandy and sweet. There were plenty of repercussions that came with the job. More than half of her family and friends turned their backs on her when they found out what she did. Most judged her for selling herself for money even though that’s not exactly what it meant. 

Dating was also out of the question. Everytime she started dating someone and she would explain what she did for a living, they would throw the “it’s not you, it’s me” line that translated to “I can’t be dating a slut.” The second type of guy would seek advantage and only date her to take her to bed. Iris decided it was better to be single and only surround herself with those who loved her for who she was and not how she chose to live her life. It was a learning process that till this day she was still benefitting from but was thankful for none the less. 

Iris worked specifically for Satin Label Escorts, one of the most, if not the most popular escort services for Hollywood. Some of the girls were hired by celebrity managements to attend events and appearances, others to closet certain celebrities who were forbidden to be open about their sexualities. Other clients weren't necessarily famous but had enough money to pay for a night or a regular basis. 

Dr. James Mendru was Iris’ most frequent client. She would have dinner with him every time he was in California which was at least twice a month. They would attend theatres, underground jazz performances, and the occasional high end party. He was a smart man, very wealthy and easy going. The only downfall was he was married and would often vent to Iris about his marriage problems. That was the main reason she refused to go to bed with him. But that didn’t mean there was’t a little hand holding or a goodnight kiss included.

It wasn’t like Iris never slept with anyone but very rarely were they a client. She never wanted to feel she was sexually selling herself. Besides her job requirements were only to accompany the customer and make him happy (never sexually, unless it was off the clock). 

But being with James, was almost like dating. He’d send her gifts and bouquets in between their meets with a little “Missing You” message attached. It felt nice yet troubling as well. Luckily he wouldn’t be around for another month. During this time she was able to clear her mind from him and focus on her job and not so much on whether or not it was morally wrong to just sleep with him already. Which by the way she knew it was. 

“How was your night with the doc?” Clarice asked the next morning from their shared living room. She sat on their donut white couch flipping through the channels in a pair of boxers and tank top.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” Iris responded jokingly passing her on her way to the kitchen. 

“Oh, cut the crap Iris. We all know James has you hooked. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took you out of the business and made you his housewife.” Clarice appeared in the kitchen. 

“Let’s get a few things straight,” Iris stood firmly waving the spatula. “One, James is my client and what I do with him in private is just between us which by the way is nothing but hanging out. Two, he’s married and three there’s no way in hell I’d end up with someone exactly like my ex. Need I remind you the type of man he was?”

“Alright, I’m sorry. You’re right,” Clarice apologized. “I guess I just want to see you happy again.”

“I am happy, see,” Iris bared her teeth in a big smile to prove her point. 

Clarice had been Iris’ roommate during freshman year and they remained good friends. After they started working together, they decided to share a two bedroom condo. They had seen each other at their best and worst. Iris definitely considered Clarice the sister she never had. 

“Anyways, a bunch of the girls want to go out for some drinks tonight. Up for it?” Clarice asked. 

“Sure, I can use a drink or two,” Iris replied while she scrambled some eggs. 

Just then Iris’ phone rang. Ron, her manager, was calling which meant there was most likely an important date she would have to tend to. She flashed her phone to Clarice to show her who was calling. Clarice frowned knowing what that meant for their plans. 

“Hey, Ron,” Iris answered. 

“Iris, how are you doing on this lovely morning? Great to hear,” he said before she could respond. But that was just like Ron, straight to the point. “Listen, I have a very important client for you tonight. It’s the premier of his movie and his publicist has asked us to pair him up with one of our best. And you know I don’t play favorites but you know, I couldn’t think of anyone other than you.”  
Ron wouldn’t say who the actor was but assured Iris she was in for a treat. He explained the details of when the car would arrive and wished her luck. 

Iris apologized to Clarice for having to cancel tonight's hangout but expressed her excitement for her mystery client. It was rare for her or any of the other girls to be left in the dark about who they would accompany unless it was someone of great importance. 

Not soon after having breakfast and a quick bath there was a knock at the door. A well suited man wearing a black suit greeted Iris by tipping his hat and handed over a black zipped up bag on a hanger. “For you madame,” he said respectfully placing it gently on her hand. 

Confused, Iris retrieved it inside thanking the man before closing the door and unzipping the bag to reveal a gold one sleeved gown, beautifully accented with gems and a sheer glittery one sided cape. Surprised by the beautiful dress, Iris unfolded the note attached to the hanger that read, “For tonight, NR.”

Although the initials seemed familiar, Iris’ thoughts were too flooded with the excitement for the night that followed to try to figure out who she’d be joining. 

It only took her about two hours to curl her hair ombre colored long hair, put on her makeup and slip into the unbelievable dress she was gifted by her mystery date. It was right before eight when her phone beeped. 

“Have fun tonight. Can’t wait to hear all about it ;)” The message read from Clarice. 

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door. Dean, the doorman, was there to let her know that her ride was waiting outside. 

“May I add you look absolutely stunning this evening,” Dean complimented Iris as they walked into the elevator. 

Walking out into the warm night, Iris spotted the black car with the tinted windows. The driver stepped out opening the door and out walked none other then Norman Reedus wearing a black suit. 

“Evening,” he said in a low tone reaching his hand out to Iris. 

She placed her hand in his as he guided her into the car. 

Iris was speechless upon greeting him. The fan inside had to contain her excitement as the professional in her knew that this was all business. This would be an interesting night.


	2. The Premiere

It was rare for Iris to feel nervous around a client upon meeting them. Usually it was the other way around as she felt most men were intimidated by her. This wasn’t a typical rich client, he was Norman Reedus. Over the past few years he had blown up with his feature in the hit post-apocalyptic zombie show Iris had yet to catch up on. To date, this was the biggest celebrity Iris had been hired for, so intimidation was a bit of an understatement. But she kept her cool. 

They had been sitting in the car for a few minutes in complete silence which felt odd to Iris because by now her date usually strikes up small talk or she finds some way to break the ice. But Norman’s cold stance put her off. He never faced her, only looking out towards the window with his elbow over the door handle as he caressed his chin, clearing his throat every once in awhile. 

“Thank you for the dress,” Iris spoke to break the odd tension that had been building up, hoping her voice wasn’t as shaky as she felt. “It’s very lovely.” 

“Mhmm,” he hummed back. “It was from my management so we’d coordinate.” He replied still not facing Iris.

Iris got the impression that Norman wasn’t very fond of her. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he was another vain actor, angered that he wasn’t paired with whatever idealistic woman he had in mind. But Iris kept pushing the thought “this is your job” to the front of her mind. 

It wasn’t long until they arrived to the location of the event. The driver stopped the car behind a moving line of vehicles where people were being dropped off. As soon as people would step out of their cars a flood of flashing lights came through spilling all over their faces. 

Iris had managed to contain herself before realizing how publicized this event was, not to mention her date was the protagonist of the film. There would be endless photographs, videos and possible interviews Iris hadn’t even thought of. The idea that Norman didn’t want her around wasn’t helping either. 

Finally their car pulled up to the entrance. Norman stepped out first and Iris could already see the flashing lights and hear the people calling out “Norman, look here!” He closed his jacket then politely held his hand out to help Iris out of the car. As she stepped out the reflection of the sea of lights bounced off her shimmery gold dress. She looped her arm through Norman’s and they took their first steps on to the red carpet. Instantaneously, the photographers began shouting everything from “Norman, who’s your mystery date?” “Norman, is she your girlfriend?” and “Norman’s date, look here!”

When Iris began working as an escort there were a couple of classes she was required to take. Some of which included etiquette, dancing classes, modeling classes, coaching classes and even some acting classes. They were taught how to act in various social situations but neither the classes, nor Ron or Norman had prepared her for any questions that she was more than sure were to come. 

There were marks on the carpet every few feet where the guests were destined to stop and pose. Each time they posed Iris could feel Norman’s hand linger right above her waist, not quite letting it rest, barely touching her. Smiling, as fake as it felt, Iris gazed up at Norman whose facial expression was as stern as could be, with lips pursed and eyes vacantly looking around to the cameras as they called his name. 

Norman gave Iris a light tap on her lower back, guiding her to the next mark on the carpet. More poses and fake smiles with empty stares came from the pair. They continued along the carpet until they finally reached the middle crossway, halfway to the entrance of the venue. 

Norman’s people waved them over and they were met by a short red head with thick-rimmed glasses who introduced herself as Anika, Norman’s publicist. “You just have one interview to go through before we get the okay for you all to be seated. Norman, when you enter the building, Diane (Norman’s co-star) and Fabienne (the director) will be waiting for you to the right of the door for some quick pictures.” Anika spoke while browsing her phone and pressing her ear piece as if it could go in any deeper. She explicitly explained to Norman which reporter to go to and to keep his answers to a minimal.

Shortly after she ushered Norman and Iris to step onto the last bit of the carpet, where reporters waited anxiously hoping for quick interviews with the celebrity guests. Norman walked over to the blonde Anika had directed him to. The woman introduced herself as part of some exclusive gossip network. Iris swore this woman with the overly thrilled smile and bulged eyes would start throwing up rainbows. Excitedly she began asking Norman about the film and how it affected his scheduling with his other projects. As he had been told to do so, Norman answered carefully yet detailed enough not to give anything away.

And then came the excruciating question they had not even been warned about but expected nonetheless. The question Iris felt dig into her chest the moment the words flew out the reporter’s mouth. 

“So, who’s the lucky lady that gets to cling to your arm tonight?” The blonde winked at Iris as she diverted her eyes back to Norman.

Norman chuckled and vaguely answered, “She’s uh, just a lady friend.”

The blond reporter left it at that before she moved on to more questions about the movie and whether or not Norman enjoyed working with his co-stars. 

Iris stood there “looking pretty” while she replayed the previous question in her mind and realized that Norman did not in fact even know his “lady friend’s” name. All night since they met he had not once asked her what her name is. She wondered if his agent had at least told him and he just refused to acknowledge it. It was demeaning to her, the thought that he would be parading around a red carpet premiere with someone whose name he didn’t even know. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, Iris found herself trailing behind Norman who was walking next to his publicist. As they entered the venue, his publicist signaled to Iris to wait on the side as Norman posed with his co-star and the director of the film. In the spotlight of the moment Iris saw Norman as the star that he was, pressed lips and squinted eyes, standing tall, and not as the frigid actor she had rode in the limo with. 

Soon, they were walking toward an elevator that would take them to the balconies over the theatre where they would be seated. Not soon enough for Iris, they were seated and the lights in the room dimmed. Theatrical music played through the speakers along the walls and the opening credits displayed on the screen. 

Not five seconds later, Norman tapped Iris’ hand and signaled for her to follow him. Quietly, with as little disruption as possible, she left her seat and followed him. They walked quietly with another man, taller and broader than Norman, who led them back to the elevators, down to the first floor and out through an exit near the back of the theatre where the black car that had brought them to the premiere, waited. 

In complete silence, Iris got into the car and once again found herself next to a stiff, tense Norman. The silence was so loud, Iris felt she couldn’t take it any longer.

“Why are we leaving?” Iris waited for a response but all that came from Norman was a scoff. “Did I, do something wrong?” she finally asked after feeling neglected all night. 

“Nah, it ain’t you sweetheart.” He looked from Iris back to the window, the same as earlier. 

Iris wasn’t buying it. “You don’t even know my name, do yo?” She accused. 

“It don’t matter now, does it? I ain’t taking you home with me anyway. I know it’s your 'job',” he air quoted the last word, “but don’t you worry darling, you’ll still be getting your money.” Norman threw his arm up as if dismissing Iris. 

If Iris could throw herself out of the moving vehicle knowing she would be ok, she wouldn’t hesitate. As if not knowing her name wasn’t bad enough, now he was implying she was a prostitute. Typical. But she expected a little more from a celebrity who should know how this business works. 

“I don’t know what information your agent, manager or whoever the hell is in charge of you gave you, but I am not a prostitute. I don’t know who you are Norman Reedus, but after today I can see that you’re just another pretentious actor who doesn’t even have the decency to stick around for his own movie premiere.”

Norman didn’t reply and they sat in silence yet again. They weren’t far from Iris’ building and in no time she was home. Without a goodbye she rushed out of the car before the driver could make his way around to get the door for her. She slammed the car door and stormed into the building where Dean, the doorman, opened the door for her. 

After the night she had, Iris thought to herself that she wouldn’t agree to another date with any celebrity any time soon. At least not any celebrity that was Norman Reedus ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the super late update but here it is! I hope to update again soon. Thank you a ton for the kudos and comment!


	3. The Attempted Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few author notes: I haven't really described how any of the characters look considering that all of them except for Norman are original characters but here are some lookalikes for reference. James Mendru looks like Henry Cavill with a scruffy face and semi long curls. Clarice, Iris' friend and roommate looks like Emeraude Toubia. And Iris is like Olivia Wilde with a fuller face and high cheekbones. That is all for now. Hope you enjoy this chapter and feel free to discuss anything in the comments section :)

A week has passed since one of the worst nights Iris has had in awhile. She wants to forget it ever happened. It has been a while since she felt degraded because of her job to the point where she feels bad about herself. Usually, when a man would have a sudden objectifying outburst toward her she would brush it off but maybe it was the high publicity of it all that made her feel worse.

Magazines published the event and networks replayed the video of this high end event and the stars. Clarice praised the publications, calling Iris lucky enough to be photographed next to a celebrity. Something not many of the other girls had the chance to have. But to Iris it was just a reminder of terrible company. 

But when Iris filled her in with the details of the night, Clarice was sympathetic toward her encouraging her and reminding her that there would always be negative moments in this occupation but that no one could bring her down. While her words were enlightening, the thoughts still surfaced in the back of Iris’ mind. 

“It’s been a week, Iris. Come out with me and some of the girls tonight. We’ll have some drinks, dance a little. It will help you forget all about your problems,” Clarice tugged at her hands pretending to dance with Iris. She knew Iris had been too hard on herself over this and she just wanted to see her friend happy. 

Clarice was there when Iris was distraught after finding out the would-be-love-of-her-life was secretly married. Iris had basically lost herself in drunken, sleepless nights before Clarice helped her, with not only booking a solid well payed job, but by helping her pick herself up and becoming the strong confident woman she is today. 

“Sure, why not?” Iris agreed. A night out with the girls was much needed. 

“Yay!” Clarice cheered. “The new place three blocks down from here just opened and I’ve heard it’s-” Clarice was interrupted by a few light knocks at the door. 

Clarice and Iris shared confused looks toward one another as neither of them were expecting company. Iris went to open the door and was met by a mysterious young blond boy holding a bouquet of roses. 

“Good morning,” spoke the man in the green polo. “Is Ms.Iris here?”

“Yes, I’m Iris,” she hesitated at first. Usually this wouldn’t come as a surprise as there are some clients that send gifts but never to her home. Unless these were from James Mendru. She was expected to meet with him later this afternoon after all. Iris thanked the boy and took the vase of roses. 

Clarice immediately runs to her questioning who the beautiful spongy roses are from, teasing Iris for having a secret admirer. “Oh, look. There’s a card,” Clarice pointed out between the stems. 

Iris opened it. “Please accept my apology? NR,” read the small white cut out. 

Without a word, Iris crumbled the paper in one fist and carried the bouquet into the kitchen where she threw the vase and roses into the trash bin, shattering the glass vase into pieces. 

“Whoa, who are they from?” Clarice asked surprised by Iris’ actions. 

“They’re from Norman!” Iris shouted, feeling like she could explode with rage. 

“It only took him a week to apologize,” declared Clarice. “Maybe he couldn’t find a way to reach you,” she tried to sound compassionate so as to not anger Iris any more. 

“Don’t make excuses for him. You should just see how smug he is, he knew exactly where to reach me,” Iris knew she was being a tad bit dramatic but hearing from Norman at this point was worse than not hearing from him at all. 

Lucky for Iris, her date with James would help to get her mind off the situation, the roses, and Norman. 

And forget is exactly what she does as her and James are seated at their favorite restaurant in the reserved table they always get near the back of the place. Where the only interruptions are from the waiter.

James orders Iris’ favorite wine and even goes as far as ordering her favorite meal. _Showoff_ , Iris thinks to herself chuckling as she happily accepts. 

This date couldn’t have come fast enough for Iris to help her get her mind off the past week. As if things could be worse, she hadn’t received many job calls during the week and she wondered if it had anything to do with the publications of the premiere. She hated to think Norman's people had called in to complain about her. 

But for now, she enjoyed her salmon with wine and company. 

“Excuse me,” the waiter politely interrupted. “Ms. Iris, a package has arrived for you.”

“A package? For me? Here, at the restaurant?” Iris asked surprised. 

The waiter signaled another waiter with snappy fingers and out he came with a bouquet of at least two dozen red roses.

A confused Iris stared at the men and then at James. “James, these are a lovely surprise.” She thanked the doctor whom she didn’t notice had the same surprised look as hers. Moving his sight with furrowed brows, from the roses to her. 

“These aren’t from me, dear,” he responded sternly. 

“But, who could-” Iris was interrupted by James. 

“Let me make it up to you, NR,” James read and handed the small piece of paper to Iris. 

Norman. How did he possibly know where she is? Astonished, Iris took the slip of paper from James, making sure that what he read was right. 

“Who’s NR?” he asked before taking a sip of his scotch. 

“Oh,” Iris was brought back from her wandering thoughts, “Just a client.” She folded the paper and slipped it back into the bouquet. “Could you please dispose of these? Thank you,” she handed them back to the confused waiter. 

They sat eating in an almost awkward silence. Something that was very rare between these two. She damned Norman in her mind for having sent these roses, especially during one of her sessions. But the most curious thing of all was how he knew where she was. 

“So, this client,” James finally spoke before taking another sip of his drink. “Do you see him regularly?” He questioned without looking at her, focusing on his steak and potatoes. 

“No actually. I’ve only been out with him once.” Iris looked at him skeptically. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, wiping the corners of his mouth. “You must have made quite the impression on him if he’s tracking you down to send you flowers.”

Iris never discussed other clients with any of them but the tone in James’ voice was one Iris had never heard before. He was annoyed but curious. Was he jealous? _Oh this was gold_ , Iris thought. The married man, jealous of his escort. She couldn’t help but play along. 

“Yes, I will probably be seeing him again soon.” Iris stated coyly with a menacing smile. 

James continued to eat without looking at her, only raising his eyebrows at her words. 

After dinner, Iris and the doctor walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. Their car was waiting for them by the entrance and James helped Iris step in. Once in the car, James caressed Iris’ cheek, pushing her wavy, brunette hair behind her ear. With a firm grasp on her neck, he brought her in closer for a kiss. They parted lips for a moment, James looking at her with hungry eyes and then brought her in for a more sensual kiss. 

“Let’s get a room,” he suggested between kisses.

Baffled, Iris pushed him off. “No,” she asserted. 

“Come on, Iris. We’ve been together for months now. I take you to so many places, buy you gifts and let you know how much I miss you when we’re apart.” He whined. 

Iris was perplexed. Was he really throwing all of this in her face just because she wouldn’t sleep with him?

“James, you’re married or did you forget that little detail? I don’t ask you to buy me anything or take me anywhere. I can very well provide for myself. You’ve been my client for months now,” She corrected him. “You can hire any of the other girls who can maybe give you what you want.” She suggested to him. 

He looked at her with daunting eyes that soon went apologetic. He apologized and scooped her up in a hug. He tried to be sweet the rest of the ride, telling her about his latest patient he had to travel overseas to help and all the wonderful things he had seen. 

When the car finally arrived at her building, he thanked her for a wonderful afternoon and for being a great listener, something he claimed he couldn't find in his wife. 

Iris felt annoyed and uncomfortable after their date and was glad it was finally over. 

When she walked into her building Dean greeted her. 

“Good evening, Ms. Iris. A package was just dropped off for you,” he went over behind his counter to reveal yet another bouquet of roses. 

“Seriously?” Iris found herself saying aloud. “Dean, could you hold these for me while I get back. I have to do something.” Iris stormed out of the building, hauling down the nearest taxi cab. Soon after, she pulled up in front of Satin Label Escort headquarters. 

She entered greeting the newest receptionist, Mandy. “Can you let Ron know I’m here to see him please?”

Iris didn’t wait for the petite blonde receptionist to call Ron before she walked through the side doors that led to the back where there were cubicles and lounges along the sides. There were escorts all along the hall, some chatting with each other, others having discussions with their agents. 

At the end of the hall was the biggest office in the place, Ron’s office. The intimidating office all the girls had to go through for interviews. 

“Iris, honey. Good to see you here,” Ron greeted her from his desk. “Anything I can help you with?” he asked looking up from his tablet. 

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Mandy enters with, another fucking bouquet. 

“Sorry for the disruption Ron,” Mandy says politely before Iris interrupts. 

“Let me guess, Mandy. They’re for me,” Iris asks with a serious face. 

Mandy nods. 

Iris walks over to her, grabs the vase and slams it into Ron’s trash can. Ron and Mandy flinch in surprise and Mandy excuses herself out with no more words. 

“What? Was? That?” Ron asked in shock. 

“That’s what I came here to ask you.” Iris says. “Have you given out information of my whereabouts or appointments? That’s the fourth bouquet I have received today and they all happen to know exactly where to find me.” Iris could feel herself turning red from the anger. 

“Of course not, honey. You know that’s confidential. Who is this secret stalker that wants your attention anyway?” Ron wiggled his eyebrows in curiosity. 

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Iris sighed sitting on the black, small, round chairs in Ron’s office. 

“Well, I have something that might take your mind off of this.” Ron rummaged through his cluttered desk pulling out his yellow note pad. “You have been requested for tonight by a client I’ve been told not to reveal but he promises an extravagant evening. What do you say?”

Iris was in no mood for another client today, but this week had been so messy not only did she need the money, the distraction would be a plus. After the date she could meet up Clarice and some of the girls for some drinks. 

She says yes to Ron and is on her way home but not before saying hi to some of the ladies at the office. Over time, the job of escorting became a lot like a sisterhood. They share stories and adventures that only they can understand without judgement. That’s not to say there aren’t snakes here or there because in a business full of girls the gossip is inevitable. 

At home, Iris gets out of her blue sundress and into an all black body suit, laced with a silver belt around her waist and paired with her newest silver stilettos she just couldn’t wait to wear. 

At that moment there was a knock at the door. A delivery boy in brown cargo shorts and matching shirt is at the door. “Evening Ms. Iris. This is for you,” he hands her a small, rectangular, red box before walking away. 

Upon opening it, she sees a beautiful silver bracelet accentuated with diamonds all around. Beautiful isn’t even the appropriate word to use for this piece. She pulled it out and revealed a hidden note under it. 

“Looking forward to tonight,” it read. Then those two haunting letters hung in the bottom right corner. “NR.”

Oh no! She should have known. “Top secret,” Ron had told her. Of course it would be Norman’s way of manipulating her to accept to go out again. 

A few moments later, Dean is ringing to tell her that her ride was here. Better yet, that Norman was here. Iris felt her eyes roll to the back of her head with outrage. 

“Dean, I’m not feeling well,” she replies into the intercom. “Please, tell the gentleman I’m not home at the moment.”

Poor old man, Dean, having to lie for Iris. He was such a sweet genuine man not questioning her actions. But there was no way she would see Norman tonight. 

She quickly messages Clarice that she is available for drinks after all. Clarice quickly replies with the address of the bar they would be at. Iris changes into something more casual. Ripped jeans, a white tee, black leather jacket and some booties would do. 

She steps out into the chilly but pleasant evening deciding it’s nice enough for a walk. The bar was only three blocks away and she could use some air to clear her mind after the tumultuous day she had. 

As soon as she turns the corner, a tall, broad figure is facing her but she pays no mind to the man and continues walking. 

“I’m sorry, Iris,” shouts a familiar voice. “I was a dick and I’m sorry.”

She turns around and see none other than Norman Reedus. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” she scoffs under her breath but loud enough for him to hear. “What do you want?”

“Did you get the roses I sent you?” he asks, staring at her from under the hair covering his eyes.

“Yes, the trashcan liked them very much. It told me to tell you, thanks.” She responded sarcastically. 

“Ouch,” he half chuckles, clutching his chest. He walks a few feet toward her. “I just want to apologize for acting like an asshole last weekend. I took it out on you, but you weren’t the problem.”

Iris pondered his words for a moment without responding, hands in the pockets of her jacket. 

“I’d like to take you out for dinner to make up for it, if that’s ok.” He asks with a half smirk. 

“I don’t date my clients,” She emits. 

“It won’t be a date then. Just an appointment, session or whatever. I’ll have my manager call your people.”

Iris is hesitant for a while and really wants to find the sincerity in his apology. The contrast, from the man she went out with last week to the man she is facing at the moment is drastic, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Fine,” is all she says, glaring at him one more time before turning around to walk toward the bar again. 

Once she’s with the girls her troubles from the day seem to disappear and she’s dancing around to the sound of the heavy bass. She remembers the bouquet of roses she left with Dean and thinks of how nice they’ll look against the white marble in the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, if you've read this far thank you so much! Let me know what you think :)


End file.
